


Trial and Error

by imadoctornotyourhousekeeper



Series: Castiel's Grace [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Going to Hell, Hell, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Mild Headache, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Research, Worry, sleepy winchesters, tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadoctornotyourhousekeeper/pseuds/imadoctornotyourhousekeeper
Summary: The Winchesters try various methods to restore Castiel's grace. WARNING!!!! Some spoilers for season 15. Slightly AU to fit my story line.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Castiel's Grace [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681459
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Trial and Error

The bunker was a mess. Piles of dusty books lay on all available surfaces, the table, the chairs, even in heaps on the floor. Loose pages fluttered about as the occasional draft blew through the library. Empty beer bottles were clustered in groups on the table, or lined up like soldiers along bookshelves. Dean was asleep in the easy chair in the corner, a stack of books at his feet and another open on his lap. Sam sat at the table with his head resting on one hand, slowly turning page after page. Occasionally he sipped from one of the many bottles at his elbow. Castiel was pacing in the next room, apparently trying to get someone on the phone. He concluded another frustrated voicemail, turned back into the library and tossed the phone onto the table with a sigh. 

"No luck?" Sam asked

"None." answered Cas, "Sergei has been ignoring my calls for a week now."

He sat down and rubbed his eyes. Neither he nor the Winchesters had gotten much sleep that week. They had been too busy trying to find a cure for _him_. 

_This is such a waste of time,_ he thought, _we should be searching for a way to stop Chuck_

The past week had been a frustrating one. He had tried heaven, but if anyone was left upstairs they weren't answering. His hours waiting and calling out at the sandbox had been fruitless. Sergei hadn't picked up a single time, and Sam and Dean were starting to run out of books. The Men of Letters bunker had many fascinating artifacts, but none seemed useful in this particular crisis.

Sam interrupted his thoughts.

"We can try calling him again tomorrow, in the meanwhile I have a facial-recognition program searching for him. Hopefully we'll get a hit soon."

"And if we don't?" Cas's voice sounded tired and strained 

"Then we'll try something else." Sam tried to sound hopeful. "We'll find something, we always do."

Cas looked over at Dean, still fast asleep and snoring peacefully in his chair. He faced Sam again.

"I think we should stop this research. We're just wasting time that we should be spending trying to stop Chuck. I'm sure he meant this as a distraction"

Sam shook his head. "Well it is working, but we need you Cas, and we take him down together or not at all"

Cas was silent, he knew that nothing he could say would dissuade the brothers from helping him. Humans could be so stubborn sometimes. 

Sam continued to read his book and Cas picked up one from off the stack on the floor beside him. It was an ancient Babylonian text and had incredibly detailed information on angel wings. He hastily put it down and selected another. He would never have admitted it to Sam and Dean, but he missed his wings terribly. At this point, he had ceased to hope he might get them back someday, and thinking about them was distressing. 

His reverie was interrupted by a loud thud. The book Dean was holding had been slowly sliding off his lap ever since he had fallen asleep. Now it hit the floor loudly. Dean jumped to his feet, shouting something incoherent before he realized where he was. He sat back down, yawned, and picked up the fallen book. Sam looked up, and shut his book.

"I haven't found anything in the lore so far and we're almost out of material."

"I haven't found anything either," said Dean, "I'm starting to think we need a new approach. Did you get a hold of Sergei?"

"Unfortunately, no," answered Cas, "I'm going to try him again soon"

"At this point, even if we do find him, we don't know if he can help at all. Or that he won't try to screw us over." Sam added, grimacing at the memory of the last time Sergei had 'helped' them.

"So what's next on the list," asked Dean, "Rowena?"

"Yeah I think so," said Sam, "We have the spell to get down to hell. Cas will you be alright to keep the spell alive while we're gone?"

"I don't think you two should go, you aren't exactly popular with demons." Cas paused and looked hopefully at the brothers for any indication they might listen to him. Seeing none he continued, 

"But if you are determined to make the trip anyway, I'll keep it open."

"Well then, that's settled," Dean stood up and stretched.

Sam followed suit. "I'll get everything we need from storage."  


\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The brothers gone, Cas sat back and watched the glow of the spell bowl. There was nothing for him to do but wait. 

_I hope Rowena has something._

He rubbed his eyes and tried to forget how desperately he needed sleep. It was such an inconvenience and he tended to forget and push himself too hard these days.

From somewhere in the bunker a phone rang. Cas got up to investigate, found it and answered. 

_"This is Jeb Evans, sheriff's department Cushing, Oklahoma, calling for FBI Agent Watts?.. We have a suspect..one of yours,... a, uh, Jack Kline. That name ring a bell?"..._  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He reviewed the security tape again and again while waiting for the Winchesters to get back.

_Jack was alive?!_

_How did this happen?_

Cas wasn't too surprised, after all he had cheated death many times himself. His heart filled with hope and excitement but these emotions were quickly crushed by overwhelming anxiety.

_What on earth was Jack doing?_

Jack's calm demeanor on the tape stood out in stark contrast to the grisliness of his actions.

_Is that what he was now, a soulless murderer?_

The angel rubbed his temple. A stress-induced headache was forming behind his eyes. This couldn't wait. He needed to get down there immediately before Jack hurt anyone else. He eyed the spell thoughtfully for a moment, then made his decision. Throwing more ingredients in the bowl, and hastily scrawling a note for Sam and Dean, he left the bunker.  


**Author's Note:**

> I've finally figured out how I'm going to end this story! Maybe 2 or 3 parts left to go.


End file.
